


scars to your beautiful

by suituuup



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26344465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suituuup/pseuds/suituuup
Summary: Five scars, five stories
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Comments: 14
Kudos: 186





	scars to your beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Special shout-out to @carma19 for proofreading this <3

_i._

**Beca**

_I’m dying._

Chloe glances down at her phone, a frown pulling at her eyebrows. Beca tends to be a little dramatic sometimes (and that’s Chloe being nice and not out right calling her a wuss) so Chloe now knows there’s no reason to freak out before Beca’s elaborated. 

Three dots show up on her screen.

**Beca**

_I think I’ve got the flu. Can you handle rehearsals on your own?_

**Chloe**

_Oh man. Yeah, for sure. I’ll bring you some chicken soup later. Rest up! xx_

**Beca**

_You’re the best. Thanks Chlo._

The Bellas often make fun of them for being so domestic around one another, but she and Beca are so used to it by now that they don’t really pay it any mind anymore. Not that Chloe ever did, but Beca would often get irritated by all the comments (mostly originating from Stacie and Amy) that they were secretly boning or even dating. 

Beca is her best friend, that’s it. It _is_ true that Beca is inexplicably soft when it comes to her and that Chloe has always been more touchy-feely with Beca, but that doesn’t mean they’re involved. 

They’re not. 

Sure, Beca is hot. Chloe has eyes. Beca is also talented and loyal and smart and-- 

“Chai tea latte for Chloe!” 

Chloe jolts out of her daze and takes a step forward to grab her to-go cup, berating herself for letting her mind drift to her best friend that way. It’s not the first time it happens, and it’s starting to become frustrating, because there’s no way Beca feels anything beyond platonic feelings for Chloe. 

Rehearsals go surprisingly well with one captain down, and Chloe lets them go ten minutes early because she’s kinda worried about Beca (who hasn’t replied to her last text half an hour ago) and wants to check on her. After stopping by the grocery store on campus, Chloe heads home, changes into her pj’s and heats up the canned chicken soup she bought before carrying it to the attic. 

“Bec?” She calls out softly as she pushes the door open. Beca doesn’t reply, but the lump under the mountain of blankets shifts, proving she’s still alive. Chloe sets the soup down on the bedside table and sits down on the edge of the bed just as Beca emerges from her cocoon. Chloe gives her an empathetic smile. “How you feelin’?” 

Beca groans in response, the effort of propping herself against the pillow seemingly a challenge on its own. Her eyes are glazed over and her complexion has lost its glow. “My stomach hurts.” 

“This might settle it,” Chloe says as she takes the bowl and stirs its contents, scooting closer and holding up the spoon. “Open up.” 

Beca rolls her eyes but obeys, swallowing the spoonful. “I can feed myself, you know.” 

“I don’t mind,” Chloe murmurs, her lips curling upwards at the corners. 

“If Amy comes in, we’ll never hear the end of it.” 

Chloe chuckles but offers another spoonful anyway. She sets the bowl down when Beca tells her she’s had enough and rests the back of her hand on Beca’s forehead. “Bec, you’re really hot.” 

“Mmm.” 

Beca suddenly winces and wraps an arm around her stomach as she curls up on her herself.

Chloe’s concern heightens. “Where does it hurt?” 

“My right side,” Beca mumbles, eyes screwed shut. 

Chloe blinks. “Beca, I think you might have appendicitis. Did you throw up?” 

“Twice.” 

Chloe pushes to her feet. “Come on, I’m taking you to the ER.” 

Beca tugs the covers higher, burrowing herself deeper in her bed. “I’m _fine._ ” 

“I’d rather have a doctor attest to that,” Chloe insists, taking hold of the comforter and tugging it down a bit forcefully. “Come on.” 

Once Beca complies, Chloe helps her put a jacket on and grabs her keys from the kitchen island. She tells the girls milling about the living-room where they’re headed and opens the car door for Beca before rounding the vehicle and sliding behind the wheel. 

“You’re overreacting,” Beca mutters with a shiver, tugging the hood of her sweatshirt over her head. 

Chloe ignores her, staying focused on the road. The hospital is just a ten minute drive away, and she finds a parking space not too far from the ER entrance. 

They thankfully don’t wait too long. The intern examining Beca looks very young but Chloe won’t be that jerk who makes a comment on it, though she’s a bit wary about her best friend being checked by a kid. 

“Yep, your friend’s right,” he announces as he snaps his gloves off. “We need to take your appendix out.” 

“ _Out?”_ Beca croaks out, eyes widening. “As in _surgery?_ ” 

“Mhm,” the doctor hums, dotting down a few notes on his chart. “It’s a simple procedure. Nothing to worry about. I’ll call the OR right now and see when we can take you up.” 

“Please don’t say I told you so,” Beca mutters once the intern’s left the room. 

“I won’t,” Chloe assures her, stepping closer to the bed. “I’m sorry you have to go through that.” 

Beca shrugs. “Sorry I’ve been a pain. Thanks for insisting on bringing me here.” She sighs, glancing at the clock. It’s pushing 9pm. “You should probably head home. It’s going to take a while and I’ll probably have to stay at least a day in observation.” 

“I’ll leave only when I know surgery went well.” 

Beca is smart enough (or just plain exhausted) not to argue with that. 

Surgery goes well, and Beca gets to go home two days later. Chloe picks her up from the hospital and insists she stay in her room on the main floor so she doesn’t have to hike all the way up to the attic in her groggy state. Plus, she’ll have a queen size bed to herself and no roommate. 

“Thanks Chlo,” Beca mumbles once she’s settled in. She pats the space next to her. “Wanna watch something with me?” 

It’s a Saturday and Chloe doesn’t have much to do, so she nods, toeing off her shoes and carefully climbing into the bed as to not jostle Beca too much. 

Beca lifts her shirt, exposing the stitches on her lower stomach. “It’s gonna scar.” 

“Probably not,” Chloe reassures her. “And even if it does,” she shrugs. “Scars are badass.” 

Beca’s lips curve into a soft smile, and she twists her head to look at Chloe. Like, _really_ looks at Chloe as though she’s captivated, and Chloe feels her cheeks warm up under her steel gaze.

“Didn’t you want to watch something?” 

“Not really,” Beca murmurs, lifting a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I just wanna… look at you.” 

Chloe’s heart stutters. “W-why?” 

“‘Cause I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Inside and out,” she pauses. “And your eyes are fucking incredible,” she continues, seemingly not realizing how much this is affecting Chloe. “It’s like… the sun and the stars toppled down and made a home right there.” 

Then she starts to sing in a raspier voice than Chloe remembers it, and Chloe forgets how to breathe, because Beca’s voice always does things to her, and this is one of her favorite songs, and those lyrics… 

_“I'm scared_

_I've never fallen from quite this high_

_Falling into your ocean eyes_

_Those ocean eyes…”_

An uncharacteristic giggle pierces through Chloe’s bubble. 

“ _F_ _uck,_ I’m high as a kite.” 

Chloe’s laughter rings hollow and her smile doesn’t reach said eyes as vines sprout past her ribs to snake around her heart. She sucks in a sharp breath. “You should try and get some sleep.” 

“Probably.” Beca sighs, shuffling down the bed a bit. “Night, Chlo.” 

Beca moves back into the attic five days later. Chloe’s hanging out in her room that Thursday night, attempting to study. A knock at the door pulls her attention away from her notebook. 

Beca is standing in the open doorway. 

“Hi,” Chloe murmurs, smiling softly. “What’s up?” 

Beca repeatedly bumps her fingers together as she pads further inside, nibbling on her bottom lip. She kneels by Chloe’s side on the bed and sits back on her heels, avoiding Chloe’s gaze. “I told you I was high, and I was, but I meant what I said or-or _sang_ , rather.” She puffs out a shallow breath. “I’ve just… never found the guts to tell you.” 

Chloe blinks, closing her notebook and sitting up as her heartbeat turns rampant, slamming repeatedly against her ribs. “Tell me what?” 

Beca licks her lips, her gaze sliding up to meet Chloe’s. “That-- that I like you. You’re my best friend, and I was terri--”

Chloe muffles whatever nonsense Beca is about to sputter out next, her hand drifting up to gently hold her cheek as her lips press against Beca’s. Following a beat of shock during which she freezes, Beca melts into the kiss and then her lips are sliding against Chloe’s, soft and tender, silencing all of Chloe’s thoughts. 

Chloe’s eyes remain shut another few seconds once they part as she soaks it all in. She rubs her tingling lips together and eventually finds the courage to slide her lids open, her eyes sparkling as she’s finally able to say those words that have been on the brink of bursting free for the past year. 

“I like you, too.”

_ii._

Beca has never been a morning person. She hates having to get out of bed at the crack of dawn before her mind and body are ready to, hates having to rush through her morning routine because she was reluctant to leave her warm cocoon and ends up running late for class. 

Weekdays are a pain, and Beca always looks forward to the weekend. Especially on Sundays, where she and Chloe don’t have anything important to do. 

_Especially_ when she wakes up to Chloe’s kisses along the side of her neck, setting small fires in their wake. 

“Morning,” Beca rasps, a lazy smile tickling the corners of her lips as her eyes blink open to find Chloe’s mischievous ones staring back at her. “What are you up to, Beale?” 

Chloe’s hand is splayed out low on Beca’s stomach, warm and comforting. “Mm. I was thinking of starting the day off with my head between your legs.” 

Leave it to Chloe to be so blunt and so incredibly sexy at the same time. Beca can only groan in reply, scorching heat pooling in the pit of her belly as Chloe swiftly shifts on top of her. She slithers her way down Beca’s body, kissing every inch of skin she comes across or even a bite here and there. Visible hickeys are off limits since they want to keep this to themselves for a while, but Chloe finds unwavering pleasure marking Beca in places nobody except the both of them can see. 

Beca grows a little bit impatient when Chloe takes her sweet time suckling a patch of skin just by her hip, the throbbing between her legs getting to her head. 

“Chlo,” she whines, rolling her hips greedily. It comes out in a rasp, dripping with arousal. She knows she’s wet. “Get on with it.” 

Chloe looks up, eyebrow cocked. “Someone’s acting a little bratty this morning.” 

A huff flits past Beca’s lips and she rolls her eyes; Chloe loves when she acts that way, consciously or not. 

“Because _someone’s_ being unnecessarily slow,” Beca quips back, managing to keep a straight face as she knows Chloe is only getting more turned on. 

She can hear chit-chat coming from the kitchen down the hall and the sound of pans being pulled out, reminding her that she needs to stay quiet. Which… is honestly a very hard thing to do with a wild Chloe Beale between her legs. 

But also… kinda thrilling? 

Morning sex happens to be Chloe’s favorite and well, she’s amazing at it. Not that she’s not amazing with every other type of sex -- _really_ , Beca didn’t think sex with such a big deal before Chloe, it’s just… Beca loves it too. A lot. 

Because it doesn’t feel like sex. It’s intimate and tender and… _fine_ . It’s love making. She’ll never say it outloud because _gross_ , but that’s how she feels. 

Fingers tangle into strands of red hair, without tightening or pulling, just there to encourage Chloe’s movements. Chloe’s warm hand travels up and under Beca’s t-shirt to squeeze her waiting breast, her thumb brushing over Beca’s taut nipple. 

“Fuck, Chlo,” Beca husks when Chloe adds fingers to the mix, curling and twisting and _jesus christ_ , reaching that sweet spot and making fireworks explode behind Beca’s eyelids. She comes with a broken cry muffled by the pillow she hastily grabbed when she felt herself nearing the edge. “Oh my fucking god.” 

It takes her a while to get her body back under control and her mind out of the fog, and when she does, she realizes Chloe is off for a second round. Beca climaxes faster this time, an exhausted, sated whimper flitting past her lips as lingering aftershocks echo in the tip of her toes. 

“You done?” She quips when Chloe crawls back up, moaning into the kiss Chloe presses to her lips, her own coated with Beca’s essence. 

“For now,” Chloe murmurs back, an impish smile curling at the corners of her mouth as she settles on her side. “That was hot.” 

Beca hums, mirroring Chloe’s position and burying her head in the crook of her neck. She tangles one leg with Chloe’s and drapes an arm over her middle. Post-sex hormones make her want to cuddle, and she knows Chloe loves it. 

“Are you falling back to sleep?” Chloe asks, amusement coloring her tone as she traces light circles along the base of Beca’s spine. 

“No,” Beca lies, Chloe’s ministrations indeed lulling her into a dozing-off state until she spoke. She lifts her head, smiling lazily as she rests back on her pillow. Reaching up, she traces Chloe’s forehead scar with the pad of her thumb. “How did you get this?” 

“I’d just turned eight and my parents got me these really cool roller blades,” she starts, a reminiscent smile spreading across her lips. “My parents went out one afternoon, leaving me with my older brothers. They had skateboards, so I wore my roller blades and went with them to the skatepark. I wanted to do the big slope like they did but they said I was too little.” 

“Uh oh,” Beca laughs, the adorable imagery of a mad eight-year-old Chloe in full roller blade gear and pigtails (she added that detail because-- _cute)_ popping into her mind and making her grin. 

“Yeah, it made me _furious._ So when a couple of their buddies came to say hello and they had their backs turned, I went for it. I didn’t really know how to brake, and I crashed into the concrete steps and smashed my head on the corner.” 

Beca winces. “Ouch.” 

“A trip to the ER, three stitches and all three of us grounded for two weeks. Chris and Matt were _so_ mad at me.” 

Beca doubted anyone could stay mad at Chloe for too long. 

“Tell me something else about your childhood,” Beca says after a beat. 

As Chloe animatedly launches into another story, Beca is distracted by her own thoughts. Expressing her feelings has always been difficult for her (see exhibit _i_ ) and it’s taken her a while to get where she is now. 

To go from thinking she might be in love with Chloe, to _knowing_ that was the case but not being ready to say it aloud yet, and to finally knowing _and_ not being able to hold it in any longer. 

Which happens to be _right now_. 

Chloe interrupts herself mid-story when she catches Beca’s expression. “Why are you looking at me like that?” She whispers, a light flush coloring her cheeks. 

“I love you,” Beca blurts out. She inhales sharply, exhaling with a smile because it feels both really good to say it and strange to crack herself open like that. “I just… yeah. I’m in love with you.” 

Chloe snags her bottom lip between her teeth as though to keep her smile from getting too wide. But her whole demeanor screams happiness, like her heart might beat out of her chest and land right in Beca’s hands.

She kisses Beca, deep and slow and tender, drawing a delighted hum from her. “I love you, too.” 

Beca grins so hard her cheeks are hurting. She scrunches up her nose. “We’re _gross_.” 

“Ugh, so gross.” 

The giggle that bubbles up Chloe’s throat is like music to Beca’s ears as she suddenly rolls on top of her, eager to return the favor. 

_iii._

Tequila and Beca always make an interesting combination. While Chloe can hold her liquor, Beca is much more of a lightweight, and she becomes much more extroverted and extra affectionate once she’s had one too many drinks. 

They’ve been out celebrating Chloe’s birthday, the Bellas having flown to NYC for the weekend as a surprise orchestrated by her girlfriend. 

“God, my feet are killing me,” Chloe hisses on their way home from the club, not used to dancing until early morning anymore. 

“Want me to piggy back you home?” Beca asks, drawing a chuckle from Chloe. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, babe.” 

“Mmm. You know what’s a good idea?” She slurs, stopping and facing Chloe. Chloe mirrors her actions, Beca’s hands setting on Chloe’s hips while their friends drunkenly continue on down the street. “Us getting hitched.” 

The suggestion instantly sobers Chloe up. She blinks, not sure if Beca is actually serious or if she’s just too drunk to realize what she’s saying. “What?” 

“Shortstack! Truth or dare?” Amy calls out, effectively breaking through Chloe’s spiraling thoughts. 

“Dare!” Beca shouts back, quickly kissing Chloe’s cheek before jogging up to their friends. 

Amy dares Beca to do a cartwheel. Given Beca’s lack of aptitude for anything athletic, Chloe knows this is in no way, shape or form going to end well. 

“Babe, please be careful,” she exclaims, wincing a bit. 

“I’ve got this, Chlo,” Beca assures her with a determined look, extending her arms up. To Chloe’s surprise, she executes something that does look like a cartwheel, if you squint. 

Beca suddenly yelps, falling over before she can complete the wheel and cradling her hand to her chest. “ _Shit._ ”

“Beca,” Chloe says, sobering up some as she walks over and crouches to her level. “You’re bleeding.” 

“Cut myself on a piece of glass.” Beca avoids looking at her palm, being squeamish around blood. “Do I need stitches?” 

Chloe takes her hand gently, examining her palm. “Yeah. We should go to the ER.” 

The waiting room is packed when they get there, and Beca is given a couple of gauzes to stem the bleeding in the meantime. 

“Sorry,” she mumbles after a little while, casting Chloe an apologetic look. “Spending your birthday night at the ER was not the plan.” 

“It’s okay,” Chloe assures her, sliding her hand into Beca’s uninjured one. “I had an amazing time with the girls, thanks for setting everything up.” She leans in to press a quick kiss to Beca’s cheek before setting her head on Beca’s shoulder. 

It’s another while before Beca speaks again. “Did I… suggest we should get married?” 

Chloe lifts her head, nibbling on her bottom lip. The look on her face serves as a response that indeed Beca did just that, and her heart drops when Beca screws her eyes shut. 

“Dammit.” Beca seems to catch herself a beat later, her eyes flying open. “I mean-- I do wanna marry you, _so_ bad, I just… I had the perfect setting planned, something more romantic than--” She wrinkles her nose. “Blurting it out while drunk off my ass.” 

“You do?” Chloe croaks out. 

Beca smiles, softening. “Well, duh.” She tilts her head to the side, her eyes radiating so much love it makes Chloe’s heart soar. “You’re like… _it_ for me, you know?” 

“Yes,” Chloe murmurs, not caring about where that proposal is taking place in the slightest. She leans forward, her hand drifting up to cradle Beca’s cheek as she kisses her tenderly. Her eyes sparkle with unrestrained joy as she pulls away. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

Beca lets out a watery chuckle, chasing Chloe’s lips into another kiss before hugging her tight. 

“I can’t believe I proposed to you in a hospital waiting room next to a guy puking his guts out.” 

A giggle flits past Chloe’s lips. “It’ll be a great story to tell our kids someday.” 

Beca’s eyes pop dramatically wide. “Woah, _kids?_ I pop the question and all the sudden we’re having _kids?_ Hold your horses, Beale.”

Chloe grins, draping an arm over Beca’s shoulders as she leans closer. “You know it’s gonna happen.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Can I keep you to myself for a few more years before we start producing cute little anklebiters?” 

Chloe hums, kissing Beca’s cheek. “Deal.” 

_iv._

Honestly, Beca never thought she’d be that kind of mom. 

You _know._ The one who gushes over their child’s accomplishments far more than necessary or talks to them in that super annoying mom voice, or melts over every single one of the gazillion pictures she receives throughout a work day. 

That was before she held her son in her arms for the first time. Nothing could have prepared her for the overwhelming surge of unconditional love that hit her right there when Jamie grasped her pinkie finger, minutes after being born. 

The last few months have been an emotional whirlwind with very little sleep, but Beca wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“What’s up little dude?” Beca gushes as she peers above the crib to find Jamie wide awake, contently suckling on his binkie. She rubs his chest with her palm, grinning when he smiles at her. “Did you have a good sleep? Thank you for letting Mama and Mommy sleep past seven!” She gushes with a tired smile of her own before bending down to pick him up. “I bet you’re hungry now huh? ‘Cause all you do is sleep, eat and poop, right?” 

Walking across the hall back to the master, Beca goes on a search for her wife when she doesn’t see her in bed, finding her in the ensuite bathroom. Chloe has her shirt up, tracing the healed horizontal scar from her c-section with her pointer finger as she stares at it through the mirror. 

While Chloe’s pregnancy unfolded wonderfully, it wasn’t the case for the birth. After hours of labor, Jamie’s heart started dangerously slowing down, which prompted the doctor to do an emergency c-section. It wasn’t the plan, but all that mattered to Beca is that her two loves made it out perfectly okay. 

“Hey,” Beca calls out softly as she stands in the doorway, their three-month-old propped at her hip. She knows how self-conscious Chloe’s been about her postpartum curves and that scar, but Beca finds her incredibly beautiful with that new mother glow. “Scars are badass, remember?” 

Chloe smiles at her through the mirror, nodding her head and lowering her shirt as she turns around. 

“Hello my sweet boy,” she coos as she reaches for their son, dropping a kiss into his velvety baby hair. His tiny fingers curl around the fabric of her top, attempting to tug it down as he, mouth wide open, shoves his face between her boobs, clearly looking for food. Both she and Chloe chuckle. “Wow, he’s definitely your son.” 

Beca puffs out a huff and rolls her eyes. She can’t help it; she’s a boob kinda gal. “Yeah, yeah.” She shrugs, following Chloe out of the room. “What can I say? Your boobs are awesome. Kinda bummed out I have to share, now.” 

Chloe giggles, taking the nursing pillow Beca hands her once she’s propped against the headboard. Beca settles down beside her, her eyes bursting with love and affection as she watches Chloe feed their little one. 

“I’m obsessed with him,” Beca murmurs after a little while, rubbing the pad of her thumb over the bottom of Jamie’s foot. “I can’t believe he’s three months old already.” 

“Mm, me neither. You’ve gotta stop growing so fast, little man.” 

“We can always make another baby when we’re bored with this one,” Beca deadpans, snickering when Chloe glares at her. 

“You’re cute, thinking we’ll get bored anytime soon. It’ll get even wilder once he learns how to crawl and then walk.” 

Beca raises an eyebrow. “Are you turning down baby number 2?” 

“No,” Chloe amends. “The deal is three kids, Mitchell. But I gotta admit, the thought of having two of those under 3 is giving me a mini panic attack.” 

Beca’s chuckle comes out strained. They haven’t slept more than three hours straight since Jamie’s birth, and don’t get her started on the blow their intimate life took since they became mothers. “Yeah you’re right, let’s hold off for a little.” She bends down to kiss Jamie’s tiny hand, then Chloe’s cheek. “M’gonna make coffee and breakfast.” 

“K babe.” 

They make the best of the first not-too-hot day in a while by having a picnic at the nearby park. Jamie is starting to become much more alert to the things going on around him, and while Beca doesn’t want him to grow up too fast, she’s eager for those days where he can interact with them through words. 

“What?” Beca asks as they lie on the blanket, Jamie sprawled on her chest while he sleeps. Chloe’s been staring at her with that look that never fails to make Beca blush. 

Chloe simply smiles. “You’re an amazing mom and I love you so much.” 

Beca’s used to Chloe’s love declarations, as they usually happen several times a day, but this, telling Beca she’s an amazing mother, makes Beca’s heart burst. With her shitty childhood thanks to an absent dad and a not so caring mom, Beca has always doubted her abilities to be a good mother herself. But as Chloe told her, turns out bad parenting doesn’t run in one’s genes.

“I love you, too, weirdo,” she murmurs, thankful for the sunglasses over her eyes hiding the tears gathering there. She takes Chloe’s hand and brings it to her lips to brush a soft kiss there. 

The leaves above them rustle as a welcome wisp of breeze sweeps through the branches and over them, and Beca smiles as Chloe snuggles closer. 

Life is pretty damn good. 

_v._

“Oh my gosh, let me take a picture,” Chloe requests, pulling out her phone from her back pocket. 

Jamie decided this morning that he’s a big boy now and wants to try riding his bike without the training wheels, so after purchasing pads for both his elbows and knees, they headed to an empty tennis court by their house so he could practice.

_“Mama,”_ Jamie huffs with impatience but gives his mom a smile nonetheless, proudly wearing his green helmet over his head full of red curls as he stands by his bright yellow bike. “Can I go now?” 

“Jeez, yes baby, go on.” Chloe watches as he climbs on, gripping the handle bars tightly while Beca stands next to him. 

They slowly start cruising around the tennis court, Beca running beside him with a hand resting on his back and the other on the handlebar. 

“You ready to try on your own, Jimmy-Jam?” Beca asks after the tenth lap or so, a little breathless and red in the face as they stop by the net for a short water break. 

Chloe would have volunteered to do it, but her six-month pregnant belly makes her considerably slower. 

A flash of panic briefly sweeps across Jamie’s features. 

“I’ll be right there, bud,” Beca reminds him with a soft smile.

After a beat of hesitation, Jamie nods. “Okay, Mommy.” 

“Attaboy,” Beca says, grinning. 

They start around the court once more, Chloe having pulled out her phone again to film Jamie’s first time without training wheels. 

“Don’t let go ‘til I say.” She hears him tell Beca as he picks up speed around the corner, pedaling madly while Beca attempts to keep up. “K, mommy. I’m ready.” 

“Go Jimmy Jam!” Chloe exclaims, cupping a hand over her eyes to block the sun. 

Beca lets go of the handlebars but stays close, ready to catch their son if the bike wobbles. “You’re doing it lil’ man!” 

She catches the handlebars when Jamie makes a turn and ends up too close to the fence, holding it for a few seconds before letting go once he starts down the length of the court. 

“Pedal, baby!” Chloe cheers him on, watching with a delighted smile as he goes faster, Beca sprinting after him. That smile vanishes when Jamie clearly goes _too_ fast for his mommy, and _very_ clearly heading for the net. “ _Ohmygod_. Bec!” 

Jamie’s front wheel plows into the net and Jamie flies into it before meeting the ground with a hard thud. 

Chloe instantly stops filming and rushes over just as Beca crouches down next to their son. His shin has a gash, but all his limbs thankfully seem to still be at all the right angles. 

“Mommy,” he croaks out, tears filling his eyes. 

“It’s okay, baby, we’ll fix you right up with a band-aid,” Beca soothes, smiling gently. “You were going _so_ fast.” 

“Faster than you?” He asks quietly, the corners of his lips curving into a small, sheepish smile. 

“ _Way_ faster than Mommy,” Chloe confirms as she kneels down next to them, winking at their son softly. 

“Hey,” Beca mutters, throwing her wife a heatless glare. 

“Does it hurt, sweetheart?” Chloe asks as she unshoulders her backpack to fish out the first-aid kit. 

“I’m okay, Mama.” 

“You might have a scar,” Beca observes as Chloe dabs the gash clean with some antiseptic spray. She grins. “But scars are pretty cool.” 

Jamie insists on hopping back on his bike once Chloe put a band-aid on his superficial wound and completes two laps -- one without Beca holding onto the bike -- before they head home to drink hot chocolates and eat cookies. 

_-fin-_


End file.
